Smile
by FaithHopeLove
Summary: I want to smile. I really do. But something within me has forgotten how to smile, has forgotten what joy feels like. The sequel to 'Cry'.


**AN:** Greetings all. I am so sorry that it took me so long to get the second part of this trilogy up. First, I had writers block. Then, my computer crashed. Then, I had MORE writer's block. But, I'm here, I'm alive, and I have the second part. NOTE that I have rated this PG-13 for one use of the f word, among other things (view the trigger warning).

**Trigger warning:** This story deals with, and is about, the effects of a family member attempting suicide and self-mutilating, and much of it is written through the POV of the family member who attempted suicide. Parts may be found triggering. Use discretion.

**Disclaimer: **I have nothing to do, and am in no way associated, with Law and Order: SVU, it's characters, or anything else, for that matter. It belongs to Dick Wolf. All of it.

**Spoilers: **'Painless' 'Payback/Intoxicated'. Mention of one of the happy-feel-good Stabler family moments from 'Wanderlust'. Has anyone ever noticed that all feel-good moments in this show always seem to be under thirty seconds?

**Thanks to: **SVUFanatic611, the worlds greatest beta and friend.

* * *

**General Mercy Hospital**

**Saturday, September 22nd, 10:44 AM**

**Queens, New York**

**Elizabeth Stabler's POV **

"Elizabeth?"

I barely can find it within me to register my father's whisper. My eyes are closed, and I'm sure he thinks thatI'm sleeping, butI'm not. I was until a few minutes ago, but I'm not now. Right now, I am so deep in prayer that I feel dead to the world. Mom still hasn't shown up at the hospital, and I'm so afraid that she hates me now, that she isn't coming because she's mad at me…

I open my eyes, forcing back the tears that have welled in them. I've lost my composure more than enough times for one day in front of my father. I don't want him to notice. I really, really, really, really don't want him to notice. Because if he notices, he'll want to talk. He's always wanted to talk. When I'd come home from school with a bad grade, he'd want to talk.Whenever I was PMSing or sad, he'd want to talk about why. Whenever I had a fight with one of my sisters, he'd want to talk. Whenever I was sad before today, he'd want to talk. And I am absolutely, one-hundred-and-ten percent positive, that after I have tried to commit suicide, and am sitting on my hospital bed crying, he's going to want to talk. The only problem is that I don't know if I can talk. I don't know if I can face my fears.

"Honey? What's the matter?" He sits down on the edge of my bed, gently wiping away the one stray tear that has found its way out of the tears I carry in my soul.

"Dad…does mom hate me?" I say, my voice about twenty times softer than normal, as I fight to not let my pain be revealed.

"Elizabeth Teresa Stabler, don't ever so much as think that!" My father exclaimed, "Your mother will never hate you. She was at your bedside for most of last night, but first, you were unconscious, and then the hospital staff told us that you needed rest, and that they'd release you later today. Your mom went back to our…my…the house to cook food once she knew you'd be released this afternoon. She said that she knew you'd want a decent meal."

I sigh from relief. Mom has always expressed her love for us in the things she does, her actions, not just her words. Mom's always believed, and has always taught us, that words are sacred, and that talking all the time means we're not listening enough. She's proved her love by proving- time and time again- that she listens to what we say. Really listens. And apparently she listened when I voiced my opinion on hospital food.

Dad sighs, his blue eyes searching mine.

"Is that why you did this, Elizabeth? Because you think your mother hates you?"

I shake my head, and I see him relax a bit.

"Kiddo, Uncle Munch is outside. He wants to see you. Do you feel up to it?" He asks me.

I sit up, nodding. I love seeing Uncle Munch. He never really says that much, and he's getting pretty old, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't miss much. He's probably one of my favorite people in the world. I want to smile, I really do. But something within me has forgotten how to smile, has forgotten what joy feels like.

Dad pats my hand, then goes to get him. A couple seconds later, Uncle Munch walks in. Silently, he walks in, and looks at me for a moment, still holding the silence. I can't read his eyes- I can't read what he's thinking at all. I hate that, because I have no idea how he's taking it. But, no matter what…if he wants to scream at me, yell, cry…whatever. I'll take it. I _deserve_ it. But I don't want to take the silence anymore.

"Uncle Munch?" I say quietly.

Still nothing.

"Uncle…?"

Nothing.

"Can you hear me?"

Again, nothing.

"Hello?"

I feel on the verge of tears. If he'd wanted to yell, I'd live with it, but, this…this is hell.

"Please say something." I whisper, tears welling up.

He tries to smile at me, but he fails, and instead gives in to blank emotion.

"I just thought I'd give you a taste of what it would be like if you'd…succeeded." I lean back on the pillows on my bed as he continues, "Just know that if you ever try this again, I will pull you back from the dead and kill you myself."

"I'm sorry I did it…I can't say I know why…"

"I'm not going to yell at you about how selfish this was, Elizabeth. I can see in your eyes that you're beating yourself up enough."

I find myself almost wishing he would. I feel terrible, so terrible. He's perched against the edge of my bed, and I can tell that he's looking right into my soul.

"I know you think it's only you that you're effecting, Liz. But, the thing is…suicide is a domino effect. If you live through it, it hurts you, because- and I know you're feeling this, that carefree, innocent part of you…is lost. And then, it hurts your family, your friends, and everyone that's ever met you. It tears them up inside, because all they can think is that maybe they had something to do with it. So, each one of them, and you yourself, loses a part of that relationship."

He stands up, never breaking the gaze we are sharing.

"Listen, kiddo, I have to go back to the squad room for a little while, but Olivia, Casey, and I will be there when you get home, all right? Fin wanted to come, but he's tied up with a trial, and Don couldn't get away, but they both send their best."

Slowly, he walks towards the door.

"Uncle Munch?" I call desperately. "Will I ever get those relationships back? And that part of me?"

He smiles at me, somehow looking cynical yet promising.

"With time, Elizabeth. And some work."

* * *

**Stabler Residence**

**Saturday, September 22nd, 2:30 PM**

**Queens, New York**

**Elizabeth Stabler's POV**

I sit, curled up on the couch in what used to be the family living room. Dickie and Kathleen are on the floor, playing a card game of some kind. They asked me if I wanted to play, but I said no. I need to observe everyone, need to remember how people act when they aren't depressed or suicidal, need to remember how to smile and laugh. Maureen is pretending to study from one of her textbooks, but she's not studying. She's deep in thought about something else. Mom and dad are outside, in the backyard, supposedly going outside to talk about changing their custody arrangement instead of tormenting everyone else. Olivia, Ms. Novak, and Uncle Munch are here, and everyone is trying to keep the conversation alive. Except, it seems, Ms. Novak. She's just sitting in a chair, smiling and looking at everyone, but only speaking when spoken to.

It's hilarious how dad introduced her to us as Ms. Novak. It's clear that they've become pretty close over the last little while, especially since the divorce was finalized. I mean, with all of his friends from SVU, it's been Uncle or Auntie, or at least by their first name. Yet the one he's closest to is the one he tells us to address the most formally. Amusing.

Everyone is avoiding the upstairs bathroom. Me, above all. The door is closed, and everyone is treating it like some fucked-up shrine. I keep telling myself that I don't hate myself, only what I did, but I'm still scared to go into that bathroom. I keep feeling as if…if I opened the door, a demon or something would pounce on me to punish me for what I've done.

"I'm…going to get a glass of water," I say, tentatively, "Anyone want something?"

"No, thanks" choruses around the room. I stand and walk to the kitchen, and I hear mom and dad raising their voices outside. Curious, I step towards the back door. The shouting is getting louder, and, unnoticed by either of my parents, I open the back door and standing in the doorframe.

"I know you blame me, Elliot! You always have! For getting pregnant, for getting divorced, for Elizabeth's suicide! But why don't you look to yourself! You were never home, and when you were home, the kids were scared of you, and-"

I realize that everyone has come up behind me. I don't know how much more I can take. I want to throw my hands over my ears, scream, fall to the ground, and cry.

"At least I didn't tear apart this whole family!" My father retaliates.

"Stop it!" I shout, throwing the door open wider, and almost falling onto the lawn, "Stop! You two want to know why I did this? This is why! I couldn't take any more!"

I turn around, running for all I'm worth back into the house, and up the stairs. I hear a voice call after me, and I'm shocked at who's it is.

It doesn't belong to my parents, nor anyone in my family, nor does it belong to Uncle Munch or Olivia.

It belongs to Ms. Novak.

* * *

**Stabler Residence**

**2:32 PM**

**Elliot Stabler's POV **

I watch as my youngest daughter runs from the backyard in tears, and I feel whatever part of my heart that isn't broken, break. And then some. I want to run after her, but Casey has already took off in her direction. I want to reason with Kathy, but I can't find my voice box.

"Damn you," She whispers, looking at me, tears filling her eyes, "Damn you."

She turns from me, running as fast as she can from this cursed ground, Olivia taking off after her.  
I know that I am about to lose whatever composure I have, and I don't want the rest of my children to see me like that. I toss my wallet to Maureen.

"Why don't you three go get some ice cream?" I ask.

"We'll be back in an hour and a half." Maureen responds, hurrying with Kathleen and Dickie towards the front door.

I hold onto my composure until I hear the car pulling away, and then I fall to the ground, my fists hitting it hard, my voice rising with every syllable and then dropping back down to a whisper as I call out the name of my Creator.

"Elliot…" John offers tentatively, "talk to me."

"Where do I start, John? Kathy and I used to be in love. There's pictures, home videos, and a ton of memories that prove it. Apparently our love faded with the pictures, memories, and sound on the videos. And…that makes me want to die. So, I want to tell Elizabeth that what she's tried to do was wrong. I want to tell her that self-mutilation is wrong. I want to talk to her…but…how can I come down on her for doing something that I have thought about doing? How can I…how can I…?" My voice breaks.

"Ell," John says, kneeling beside me, "listen to me. My father killed himself…the last thing I said to him was that I hated his guts. I can't take that back, and it haunts me to this day. Elizabeth may have tried, Elliot, but she didn't succeed. And…Elliot, I know that you're scared that she did it because of something you've done…something you've said…but…you can take it back. You can make it right. You can tell her every day that you love her. So do it. Elizabeth knows that you love her. She does. It's in her eyes. It's in _your_ eyes."

John stops talking, and searches my face. My shoulders hunch, and all the pain that's resulted from the divorce, and all the pain that's resulted from knowing the pain Elizabeth is in, lets itself go.

I look towards my daughter's window, ready to make it right.

**2:32 PM**

**Olivia Benson's POV**

"Kathy!" I call, _"Kathy!"_

I continue running in the general direction I saw her run in, and see her hunched over on a bench halfway down the street from the Stabler's house, sobbing so violently that I'm afraid she's going to get sick. She looks towards me after I call her name.

"I failed her, Olivia." She said, her voice broken and bitter, "I was supposed to be her mother, and I failed her! I was supposed to love her enough that she'd find peace! It was my duty! I was supposed to raise her in a way that modeled love, grace, compassion, and patience. I wasn't supposed to be the cause of her pain! I wasn't supposed to be selfish, I was supposed to be selfless, but it my selfishness, I took away her family! I took away the one place in her life that was supposed to be stable! That's why she did this!"

"Kathy," I say quietly, sitting beside her, "Listen to yourself. Has…has Elliot ever told you about my mother?"

"Yeah." Kathy said.

"When I was a teenager, I never felt like she…really cared…I was just so starved for a mother, for someone who would love me that way. I would come home every day to our empty apartment, and when she was home, she was usually drunk. I remember the first time I met you…the first time I saw you with your kids…just this sense of longing…to have a childhood the way your kids did, because I saw the love you had for them."

I look over at Kathy. What she's done may have hurt my partner, but I hate seeing her like this. She's an amazing person, an amazing women, and I know that she is in as much pain as Elliot. I feel flooded with compassion for her as her sobbing recedes. I see a small amount of hope coming into her eyes, and that's more than enough for me. I jump in again.

"Any fool can buy a piece of land and call it a home, Kathy. Home is referred to as a dwelling place in the dictionary, but it's more than that. Home is more a feeling than a place, and to create the feeling of home, there needs to be love. Listen, I know how it feels to feel like there is no such place as home. I know how it feels to have nothing other than a house. But you took that house that you and Elliot bought, and you both turned it into a home by loving your children and each other. You may have moved to a different house, Kathy. But your children still have a home. They always will. _You're_ their home."

"I feel like I've destroyed that by taking away there father."

A father. I know how it feels to long for a father, but Maureen, Kathleen, Dickie, and Elizabeth still have their father.

"You never took him away. Elliot is still alive, he's not dead. Not to you, and not to the kids. They still have him. Maybe not in the same house, or the same place…but they'll always have him. Elizabeth loves you. You love her. Despite what she tried to do, she's alive. Be grateful for that. You can right those things that you think are wrong." I say, passion coming from me with a force that I'm surprised with. I decide to wrap things up, "You're a great mother, Kathy. If you ever doubt it, just look into your children's eyes. Look at who your children are. They're great kids.That'sas a result of all you've done for them."

I'm a detective who is assigned some of the most heinous cases in the city. I have a partner whose moods and emotions can be crazily unpredictable. My love life is just as unpredictable. Few things surprise me anymore. Butsurprise flies through meas Kathy Stabler reached over and hugged me, peace finally filling her formerly lifeless eyes. I smile, glad to be able to help such a great person who has been such a positive figure in so many people's lives.

"Thanks, Olivia." She says quietly, "Listen…I've been wondering…would you like to come over sometime for dinner?"

"I don't want to intrude on your family, Kath." I say, smiling softly.

"You've been a friend to my husband, cared about my children, and cared enough about me to be here right now. That _makes_ you family."

I smile, and nod, agreeing to her dinner offer. She doesn't know that she's probably helped me more than I've helped her.

For the first time ever since my life began, I realize that in this newfound peace, and even friendship, between Kathy and I, Ihave family.

Maybe even a place that could someday feel like home.

* * *

**Stabler Residence**

**2:32 PM**

**Elizabeth Stabler's POV**

Isit down on my bed,sobbing, everything in mecryingout in pain.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to come in, all right?" Ms. Novak called to me from my semi-open door.

She gently puts her hand on my shoulder, trying to be comforting, and I can feel her searching for the right words. I slowly sit up.

"Ms-Ms…Ms. Novak…" I choke out, wanting to tell her that it's okay. I want to tell her that it isn'tneccessary for herto try and comfort me, that I don't need help. But I can't say that, because it's a lie, and she knows it. I can see that in her eyes.

"Why don't you call me Casey, honey?" She offers. "Do you know what I saw when I first met you, Elizabeth?"

"No…" I choke out between sobs, gasping for air, "What…what did you see?"

"I saw a girl that I thought was beautiful. I saw a girl who was young…and carefree…and full of life. You reminded me that I needed to live my life with passion. I've seen you every now and then since then, and bit by bit, that girl has died. So, right now, I'm sitting here with the shell of a girl that used to be Elizabeth Stabler. But Elizabeth Stabler is lost."

"I don't know how to get her back…I want to! God, I want to!"

Casey takes my hand, helps me up, and leads me to the bathroom.

"No…Casey…I can't…"

Slowly, she opens the door, and turns the light on. She comes back out, and sits down outside of the bathroom. Slowly, I sit down, facing her.

"Why are you afraid to go in here, Elizabeth?"

I close my eyes, knowing that I'm lying to myself when I think that I'm scared of a demon punishing me.

"Because she was in here. The real Elizabeth Stabler. I remember. I remember being in there when I was, like…six years old. Dad, mom…my siblings and me…we were going out…daddy was braiding my hair…Maureen was putting on makeup. I remember I grabbed one of her lipsticks and tried to put it on. She took it back. She pretended to be mad. I don't think she really cared, because I remember her teaching me how to put makeup on in this bathroom. I remember dancing around in here while I was changing lip glosses. And all those times, I remember feeling happy, and safe…and loved."

I sigh, wishing I could leave the latter out.

"But the fake Elizabeth was in here, too. I've looked in that mirror and said that I've hated myself. I watched myself cut into my wrist. I cried in here after my parents divorce was finalized. Then, I stopped crying. And refused to do it again. The real Elizabeth wasn't scared to cry, because she knew her family would eventually ease her pain. The fake Elizabeth wouldn't cry because she didn't think she could ever stop."

I feel so filthy, so guilty, so…there is no word to describe how I feel.

"Elizabeth, what are you scared of?" Casey asks me, gently prodding me.

"I want to be the girl I was again. But…I'm so scared that I'm going to try and I won't be able to. I want to laugh again, to smile. I want to be carefree. I want to happy. But I'm so scared that I won't be able to find that again."

My eyes fall, and I can't meet Casey's eyes.

"Look at me, Elizabeth." I force my eyes to meet hers, shame filling my eyes, and compassion filling hers, "You're never going to know if you don't try."

I nod. Slowly, I find the strength to stand. I can't do it. I can't move! I can't. No. It's not going to work, and I'm just going to be more depressed than I am now. No. No. Not happening.

"I'll be right here." Casey says, squeezing my shoulder, "You can do this, baby. I know you can."

Slowly, I walk into the bathroom, looking into the mirror. At first, I see my bitter eyes, devoid of life. I wait for the flood of painful memories that usually come to me, but there's nothing. I close my eyes, and offer up a prayer to the Blessed Mother to give me the attitude towards life that I used to have. As my eyes are closed, I see my family. Not the way it used to be, but just the way it is. I may not be happy about it. But I can accept it.

I look in the mirror, and remember that I don't need to be my family's strongpoint. All I have to be is Elizabeth Stabler. My parents' daughter, my siblings' sister. None of this has changed, and it never will. I don't need to be perfect. Life doesn't have to be perfect. My family may be divided, but it isn't broken.

The real me has taken over. Elizabeth is dominating me…her happiness, her innocence…has been given back to me, and that's the greatest gift I could ever receive.

I look towards the door, and realize that Olivia, Uncle Munch, mom, and dad, have all slipped into the hall outside the bathroom. I look towards the mirror, and notice something that I didn't think was possible.

I am mirroring the same look everyone else is.

I, Elizabeth Teresa Stabler, am smiling.


End file.
